Yes
by Sea Legs
Summary: Yes, George is hurting Izzie. Set in season 3.


No.

No, I won't let my lust melt, flow and spread. No, I won't listen to the voices inside my head. I won't be _that_ girl. I am not that kind of woman. I am not living this, all of this is a dream, but unfortunately it's not and...

No.

No, we couldn't but we let it happen. Shame on me (and shame on you, George). No, we shouldn't have done it but we did. And well, I can't say I did not have a great time, yeah, it was... good, but nothing more... Okay, who am I kidding? It was perfect. It was mind-blowing! Let's face reality now. Let's face your wife now. Let's face this shit. "How are we going to tell her?" And you stare at me, ashamed. "We have to shut our mouths". And I can't do anything but agree, but it's not fair, not for me, not for you, not for Callie...

No.

No, I won't look at you. Never. Ever. I won't pretend that we're fine. That I can get over this crap, over this nightmare, over this black cloud, over the angst and the guilt... over... over your soft lips, over your hands stroking my hair, touching my body, finding new places, over the moans, over your salty cock and your mouth circling my breasts, over our orgasms, as we spun in a whirlwind of joy, naught and passion. It's too late now and...

No.

No, don't talk to me. It's easier. Indifference. That's what I want. I am begging you. Don't talk to me. Every time I see you I am damned. Your blue eyes hypnotize me, haunt me, make me want to... I am pleading, George. Don't tell me that we have to be strong. Don't tell me you're committed to another person even though you love me, even though you can't stop thinking about me. I've had enough! Do what you have to. I can't handle this. Don't grab my wrists. Don't cup my face with your hands. Don't... "DON'T CONFUSE ME, GEORGE!" I yell and run out of energy. My knees weaken, I fall to the floor and I take you with me until we both hit rock bottom. "Don't cry, Izzie, don't...". And you're sobbing too. We are defeated. Game over. The elevator opens and I go, I leave you, and I said...

No.

No, you made your moves and left me behind. No, you decided to be with Callie and walked away. Because that's the right thing. That's what a good man would do. But you can't have everything. You won her and lost me. And I hate you for that. I... hate... you... I... hate... you... I... hate... you... Cricket, repeat the mantra. I'm strong. Come on! I was raised in a trailer park, I've lived harder situations than this one. Just be brave and convince yourself of this: I... hate... you... I... hate... you... I... I... I love you, but I don't, I think... No, focus Iz, you have to say...

No.

No, stop. Why are you chasing me? Why are you everywhere? What have I done to you? "I am not thinking about you anymore". But I am. And I would punch you. I would hit you really hard. Because your charming attitude and perfect smile have already put a halo around my eye. I am talking clearly, right? What part of the sentence do you not understand? What kind of hint do I have to give you to make you realize we're done? "Leave me alone". Listen what I'm saying, you idiot. "I. AM. NOT. THINKING. ABOUT. YOU. ANYMORE!" But no, I am fooling myself, I am, I am, and...

No.

"No, I don't care. You can say what you want. I don't buy it. I thought you were the only person in this world who would never hurt me and you did. I thought you were the only person that I could rely on and now I know I couldn't. I thought you were the only person who would understand me and you did not. I thought you were the only person who, no matter what, would always be by my side and choose me over anyone. But I was wrong. And now I don't know who you are. No. You took off your disguise and now I am lost. I don't like you. Find someone else" And you give up again, turn around, and I feel sad and dirty. And I can be a liar, my words can lie to you, but I can't repress this fountain of love and admiration that I feel towards you, I wish I could but I simply can't...

No.

No, bruises don't heal that easily, let alone when your best friend is the one to blame for them. No, scars never disappear. No, and we can try to ignore it, we can try to forget, we can try to pretend we have left it all behind, but the painful truth is that once the storm has passed you're not the same anymore. Love is a bitch and life is not a TV show. I am not a character, I am real and this is not a fictional story. Of course not.

No.

No, and you know that. You know that you made mistakes. You have changed too. We all have, but surprisingly our love has become stronger. After all the obstacles, after all the tears, bitterness and emptied whiskey bottles. After all the hangovers. After all the rebound boys. After all the divorce papers and screams. After all your attempts to get me back. After I finally caved in to your pleas just because it's impossible to deny a thing that pure and beautiful like this wonderful feeling of being wanted by the person you want. True love prevails. And it lasts forever. It never ends...

No.

"No, I am not asleep George". I look at you and you smile. I smile back too. No, I am not dreaming. I am living this. You are George. I am Izzie. And we're one unit. We're a team. The Dream Team. You hold your gaze on me, furrow your brow. I ask: "Is anything wrong, sweetie?"

"No."

"No, it's not". You are silent for a second. Then you make the question, clearly, directly: "Will you marry me?" And I freeze, because...

No.

No, I did not see that coming. I blink. There you are. I take your hand, and you press your thumb on my cheek to wipe a lone tear away. I open my mouth but I can't make a sound. You squeeze my hand and smile again, reassuring me that married or not we will be alright. That we don't have to do this now if I'm not prepared. I'm still silent. And just when you think I'm going to say no, just when you expect me to ruin your proposition, I find the strength and the will to kiss you, giggle and say:

"Yes."


End file.
